


the dragon consumes

by abkvs (orphan_account)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Bloodplay, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Shimadacest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8059768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/abkvs
Summary: Hanzo's eyes narrow. “Do you feel no shame?” he asks. Genji can feel his barely-contained rage sparking in the air. “After all you've done, and everything more that you haven't, I thought you could fall no lower. I thought, perhaps, I could tolerate this, in time. But no. You dishonor our clan, our name, and me with your… your--” Hanzo sputters, like he doesn't want to say it. Genji can't much blame him for that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory mention that no, I don't condone irl incest & yes, I do in fact have a healthy distinction between fantasy and reality. Dear fandom, pls chill.
> 
> Unbeta'd; if you notice any typos or errors, feel free to point them out!

“Genji.”

Hanzo's voice cuts through Genji's disjointed thoughts, his brother's tone as sharp as his blade. Genji finds himself unable to breathe as he looks up into Hanzo's eyes. They're dark, powerful, and impossible to read. Hanzo cuts a powerful figure. His frame is all muscle, soft curves and sharp angles. His jaw is set, his beard trimmed to perfection and his deep black hair up in a tiny ponytail so tight that it must have been causing the headaches Hanzo so often said Genji gave him. His brother is the heir to their clan, their _empire_ , and all rightly feared him, now more than ever with their father's declining health. Hanzo will soon be king. Genji, on the other hand… Genji will soon be dead, of that much he is certain.

Genji swallows hard. "Hanzo," he replies. He feels like he's shrinking under Hanzo's (unblinking?) gaze. The silence feels like centuries, the air is nigh unbreathable. Is this how others usually felt, looking at Hanzo? Were they, too, paralyzed by his eyes? It's a fear Genji has never known before. He's never feared his older brother, not once, even despite his constant scolding. Genji has always been used to his place as the _second_ , the disgrace, the useless heir number two. He's lived his life up til this point as carefree as a sparrow, and now he's paying the price: he made a mistake that no smooth words and half-baked, flirtatious apologies can atone for.

“The council has made their decision.”

Genji's breath catches audibly. He pushes his messy green hair out of his face and tries to smile, tries to play it off. “Oh, yeah?” His voice cracks. It's unconvincing.

Hanzo draws his blade and Genji shrinks again. He closes his eyes, drops his head. Of course. He had expected this. What Genji didn't expect was for the blade to be laid out in front of him.

“Seppuku. To atone, and to restore the honor you have stolen from us. From me.”

Genji gasps and his head snaps back up. He wants to ask what year it is, why the council—a tribunal of old men with worldviews so ancient that it shocked Genji the day he saw one of them with a cellphone—have chosen something so barbaric (as if execution is any less so), why there's no other way? Instead, all he utters is a broken, “Please, Hanzo.”

Hanzo's eyes narrow. “Do you feel no shame?” he asks. Genji can feel his barely-contained rage sparking in the air. “After all you've done, and everything _more_ that you haven't, I thought you could fall no lower. I thought, perhaps, I could tolerate this, in time. But no. You dishonor our clan, our name, and _me_ with your… your--” Hanzo sputters, like he doesn't want to say it. Genji can't much blame him for that.

How does one summarize Genji's shame? The younger Shimada was caught masturbating by a visiting dignitary and powerful ally, and if that was all, perhaps he could be forgiven, but no. No, the man had walked in on Genji moaning Hanzo's name as he fucked himself on his fingers and had in doing so uncovered the burning lust Genji had for his older brother. That sort of shame could not be easily forgotten by anyone. It would be a black mark for years to come if the punishment wasn't swift and severe. The clan could be seen as condoning Genji's incestuous love, (and worse, Hanzo's reputation would be obliterated by the rumor that he reciprocated it), and that could easily spark their undoing. Who would ally with such shameful, immoral, dishonorable people? He deserves this, he thinks. He brought it on himself.

“Please,” Genji says again. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” His voice trembles and trips over his quivering lips. His chest feels tight, his gut is twisted, his pulse is screaming. He doesn't want to die. “Please, there must be something else? I don't… I can't, I can't do this. I'll run, I'll leave, I'll excommunicate myself and abandon our name, I'll do anything, anything else! _Please_ , Hanzo!”

He's on the verge of tears when Hanzo's smile catches him off guard. Genji's seen enough of Hanzo's fake smiles in his life to know their nuances. He knows that when Hanzo shows his teeth, it's real; he knows that an open-lipped smile is for Hanzo a display of honesty, intimacy, and trust. It's him letting his walls down, just for a moment.

Genji doesn't breathe when Hanzo closes the distance between them and kneels, leveling their eyelines at last. He shudders as goosebumps skitter up his spine and down his arms. He's so close. Why is he this close? Hanzo never gets this close.

“I've always wanted to know what you'd look like groveling,” Hanzo says. Genji's brows furrow. “It's… cute.” The word seems foreign when it comes from Hanzo's lips; so too is the gentle touch that follows, Hanzo's thumb wiping the threat of tears away from Genji's lower lids.

Genji finds himself even more scared than before. This is wrong. Has he already reached Jacob's ladder? Hanzo's hands feel so real, though… they're cupping Genji's cheeks, threading through his hair, and gliding finally down to his shoulders. Genji always thought that Hanzo could be the greatest temptress of their time, but this… He never imagined any of this ever being real. And yet, here they are, Genji frozen and Hanzo _touching_ him, exploring his upper body like he means to unravel him.

“Anija, I don't understand,” Genji whispers. Is this part of his punishment, a final mockery before his life is brought to an end?

“You should have told me,” Hanzo says. He's so close now, not even an inch away, and the distance is still shrinking. “It could have been our secret.”

Genji's heart stops when Hanzo's lips touch his own, and then he melts. The tension in his body scatters as he falls into Hanzo's arms, Hanzo's _kiss_. If he dies today, perhaps it won't be so bad. If this moment is his last, he'll accept it.

Genji is crying when they part, and Hanzo wipes his eyes once more. “Don't cry, my pretty little sparrow. You'll ruin your makeup,” Hanzo says. Genji sobs.

Hanzo cups Genji's head, and Genji lets himself fall into it. Hanzo's kissing his jaw, his ear, his neck, all in order, and Genji can't think at all. His cock is already growing when Hanzo's teeth find his skin. It's too much. He's going to drown in it. Hanzo asks, “Do you trust me?” and it's all Genji can do to not moan when he nods—but then Hanzo bites, hard, and Genji does moan, loud and long. It's a strange feeling; Genji is mildly certain that Hanzo's broken his skin, but it doesn't hurt that much. It feels good. A lot of things feel good, he realizes dully. When did he get on his back? What's that slurping sound? Why is the world getting darker? He's so tired…

Yet when Hanzo kisses him again, he's never felt more alive. Genji's tongue fills the void eagerly, touching teeth and tongue like he's trying to mentally map the space. He flinches when his tongue is suddenly cut on something sharp inside Hanzo's mouth, but Hanzo doesn't let him pull back. No, Hanzo _groans_ , as if the taste of Genji's blood is the best thing on earth, and then he cuts himself too. Suddenly, Hanzo's mouth tastes like heaven, like Genji's favourite foods, like cotton candy and sweet red bean ice cream.

“You're mine,” Hanzo whispers. Chills rocket down Genji's spine and right into his cock, making it stand painfully at attention in his skinny jeans. Genji tries to reply, but it's all he can do to remember to breathe. This is too much, much too much…

When Hanzo's not talking, he's ripping into Genji's skin with his teeth like a wild animal, marking him with each and every bite. It's the bite of a hungry beast. Hanzo tears him open like it's a holiday and Genji is the main dish. A smart man would be afraid. But, as Hanzo as so often told him, Genji is not terribly smart. Genji thinks with his cock, not his head. He doesn't know what's happening, but he doesn't think to question it. Hanzo's intimacy is too good to ruin with worries and wonders.

“I'm yours,” Genji finally affirms. His words are slurring as much as his hips are desperately rolling, and his back arches when Hanzo rips open yet another new wound on his neck. Something else is clouding his vision now, the darkness making way for white. “I'm all yours, anija.”

Hanzo chuckles. His face is cruel and wild, as if the beast Genji always knew hid behind Hanzo's sharp eyes and snappy attitude has finally fully surfaced. “Tell me what you want."

He's pretty sure those words alone could make him cum, but he slows his shuddering breathing to craft a reply. “I want you, anija… I've always wanted you.” Genji can't take his eyes off the blood on Hanzo's lips— _his_ blood, some part of him realizes distantly. “Whenever I have sex, whenever I touch myself, I've always imagined that it's you there with me, touching me, fucking me…” Genji's hand slides down to undo his fly and release his throbbing erection. His eyes close once more, his cheeks flushed as he begins to touch himself, desperately grinding his hand against the length still barely contained by his underwear. When Hanzo's fingertips, calloused by years of archery, grace the skin atop Genji's wrist, he unravels even further. “I want my big brother's cock inside of me... I want him to fill me up with his cum and make me go to meetings with it dripping down my legs. Ah… I want Hanzo to fuck my mouth when I talk too much, I want him to piss on me and tell me I'm a good boy...”

Genji's babbling now, his cheeks flushed and his hips bucking as he lays bare all of his shameful fantasies, an itemized list of all the reasons why he deserves his death sentence. But Hanzo doesn't touch the blade, doesn't even look at it. He's too busy repositioning himself, crawling over top of Genji and pulling the rest of his cover away. What clothes do not give way with simple tugs, Hanzo shreds—with knives? No, _claws_ —until Genji is nude at last before him.

Hanzo takes stock of him, of all the little details he's yet to memorize, of the appreciable, if inferior girth of Genji's burning erection and the dyed-green mess of pubes that surround it. He smiles, nods, licks his dripping lips clean and wipes blood from his chin with the back of his hand. Genji is mesmerized beneath him, gazing up at him with awe and a particular reverence others would reserve only for the presence of a God.

“My dearest little brother.” Hanzo leans down and in once more as he begins to speak. This time, Genji sees them: teeth too sharp to belong in such a perfect mouth, teeth that weren't there not but a few minutes before, teeth that could only be called one thing. Fangs. “You don't know how jealous I've been of the men you whore yourself out to. You were born to be mine, my prize, my betrothed, not theirs.” He drags his claws down Genji's chest, pulling thin welts to the surface. “The clan is mine now, and the council will not stop me from taking you for my right hand.”

Genji grabs Hanzo's wrist and pulls his hand close to kiss. He wants those perfect, soft lips again, but anything will do. “Yes,” he breathes. “I'm yours, Hanzo, all yours.” His lips tremble when he adds, “I love you.”

Hanzo smiles, and his claws turn then onto his own skin, ripping a gash into his thumb, which he slides into Genji's mouth before he can protest— not that he would, as entranced as he is. Genji suckles on the digit, understanding only in the most distant, unpronounceable of ways just what exactly is going on. Hanzo's blood is so sweet, and every drop fuels the fire of a new craving growing in his belly.

_More, more, **more**._

Genji's hips writhe as fire blooms inside of him, rocketing through his veins, his skin, even his hair. He gasps when Hanzo pulls his finger away, then whines like a kicked dog, desperate for its return. Hanzo gives him something better. When the skin of his brother's neck meets his lips, Genji knows what to do. He bites, just as Hanzo had, and his teeth slide in easy. He drinks, slurps, licks, desperate for more of his brother's sweet, perfect blood. He understands.

“We're dragons, you and I,” Hanzo whispers against Genji's ear. “Untameable, unstoppable, unkillable, and eternal.” He's absolutely mad. Genji's never been more in love.

Genji's lips leave Hanzo's neck with a slick pop and they meet once more at the lips. The hunger burns deep in their souls, twin fires that Genji now knows can never be put out or pulled apart. He's high on it all, the taste, the feeling, the carnal need he can no longer deny. His breathing shudders when he speaks. “Please, anija. Fuck me.”

Hanzo slinks up Genji's body and settles heavy on his chest. He's inches away from sitting on Genji's face; Genji thinks he wouldn't mind that a bit, but Hanzo has other plans. A moment later, Genji is greeted by a sight so beautiful, he wonders if he's still conscious.

Hanzo's cock is longer than his, thicker too, and—

Oh.

_Oh, sweet blessed Jesus._

It's pierced.

Genji can't help but lick his lips as he takes in the sight. The gem that tops Hanzo's perfectly centered Prince Albert is the same brilliant blue as his dragons. The base of his cock is framed by pubes trimmed as perfectly as Hanzo's beard, (Does he do this regularly? Or is this a special occasion?), and Genji wants nothing more than to bury his nose in them. But the smell… Oh, God, the smell. Hanzo's sweat and musk is overwhelming. It's sweet, heavy, and reminds Genji of his own. It floods his nose and makes him bite his lip. Now he _really_ wants to bury his face between Hanzo's sculpted asscheeks.

Sucking his brother's cock isn't a bad consolation prize, though. Genji moans when Hanzo tilts forward enough to let his leaking cockhead touch his lips. His whole body shakes and shudders when the head slides between them, then over his tongue. His mouth hangs open wide and his eyes train on Hanzo's face, desperate for a reaction, an expression, something, but Genji should know better than to hope for that quite so soon. To make Hanzo let go, he'll have to unwind him one string at a time. Genji is fine with that.

A thought strikes him that makes Genji pull back. He lets Hanzo's erection lay hot and wet against his cheek when he asks, “Hey, anija, are you a virgin?”

Hanzo scoffs. “I did not save myself for you, if that's what you're hoping, my fool brother. I took my own selection of whores to practice on.”

Genji smirks. Practice. He likes that word. It makes him feel special, like a prize. “Did you practice on the American?”

Hanzo laughs. “Yes. The cowman was quite a good test dummy.”

Genji pouts, nuzzling Hanzo's length. “You seemed so taken with him. I was jealous.”

“He was much like you. Couldn't stop talking. He made it easy to imagine you were underneath me.” Hanzo shifts, moves his cock back over Genji's lips.

“Did you taste him?” Genji runs his tongue across the head to sample Hanzo's sweet precum. “Did you bite him, make him squirm?”

“Hush.”

_Yes._

Hanzo takes hold of Genji's chin. He yanks down and stuffs his cock in the hole left behind. Genji's eyes roll back.

“You talk too much. There are better uses for your mouth.” Hanzo grins that wicked, derisive grin, and it makes Genji shudder.

Seconds pass like minutes and minutes pass like hours as Genji worships his brother's cock. He sucks, licks, moans, and writhes like he never has before. Hanzo, just by merit of being who he is, is so much better than anyone else he's been with before. Genji's floating on bliss, high on sensation and scents that seem to be growing stronger. His body is changing, he can feel it. He feels pressure in his teeth and nails, and an ache behind his eyeballs. Hanzo's blood is in him, warping him, pulsing its way through every nook and cranny of Genji's being and Genji can't tell if the pain is real or not. Here, underneath Hanzo, he's happy. That's all that really matters.

Hanzo, for his part, has turned around to take Genji's mouth from a different angle. His hands clasp Genji's neck loosely, just enough to feel the bulge when his cock shoves deep down inside of his brother's throat. Now, with his balls smacking Genji's forehead and nose, he fucks him ruthlessly. He pauses but rarely to give Genji breaks to inhale, and when he does, it's only hot, sweaty musk that greets the younger Shimada.

Not that Genji minds, of course. How many times has he jerked off to fantasies like this? The thought of Hanzo _using_ him has kept him warm on many a lonely night, and now here he is, with his saliva smeared across his face and his eyes rolled back. His cock bobs and twitches where it sits at attention against his belly; it aches in the worst way for touch, but Genji doesn't. He can't. Hanzo had disallowed it with a single bark of “Don't” when Genji reached for it. So, instead, his hands ball into fists beneath the small of his back, and Genji wonders if he'll manage his first hands-free orgasm tonight.

He does.

Hanzo, for his part, makes no effort to hasten his own end, but when it does finally come, he makes a point of pulling back, out of Genji's mouth, in order to cum across his brother's face.

Genji pants and gasps, his chest heaving. With Hanzo gone from his mouth, he feels a new sensation. Something is there that wasn't before.

“God… Anija, hand me my phone,” he groans, groping blindly for it by his side. Once he's got it, he pulls Hanzo a bit closer and makes him drape his cock across his cheek while it's still a bit hard.

Genji turns the camera on himself, on his wild, glittering eyes; on the ooze of white smeared and splattered across his brow and cheeks; on his messy hair and spit-glossed lips; and on his smile, wide and open, and the new fangs inside.

He sets the photo as his wallpaper.

———

Later, when they've both showered, (together, of course), Genji lays contented against Hanzo's bare chest. He traces the lines and patterns of his brother's tattoo, the one he knows is echoed across his own back. He's happy.

But, a question still lingers in the back of his consciousness, prodding his happy thoughts like a small child who'd just wet the bed. Something Hanzo had said doesn't sit right.

_The clan is mine now._

Genji gazes up into Hanzo's eyes. They're dark and terrifying and so, so soft, just for him. “Brother… Has father died?”

Hanzo smiles.

Genji studies him a bit longer, then lays his head down again against the soft flesh of Hanzo's pec. He smiles too. “How did he taste?”

“Like ash and iron.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Haha jk can you imagine tho" --Hanzo, probably  
> n u thought genji was a little shit, hanzo takes pranks to the extreme  
> ritual suicide, pls hanzo  
> pls
> 
> abakkus.tumblr.com


	2. [interlude] the dragon envies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very brief drabble in which Hanzo is jealous and possessive, and Genji loves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompt: "Vamp!Genji always bringing victims back to Hanzo to show off because Hanzo doesn't want anyone else to touch him and Genji likes to get him all worked up over little things."

“Hmmph.” Hanzo glares at the little purple marks on Genji’s neck.

His brother cocks his head, makes them more visible, grins. He unceremoniously drops a body on their kitchen table: a man in a suit, once well-tailored, now covered in gashes. His throat’s been ripped open and his lapels are dyed red, and off of his mess covers the entire small table like a cloth. There’s no pulse in him, hasn’t been one for at least twenty minutes. Hanzo glares at him too.

“There are other ways to catch a man,” Hanzo says. He wrinkles his nose and turns his ire back to Genji, back to the hickies. He can’t take his eyes off them.

Genji rolls his shoulders to make the muscles of his neck ripple. Hanzo’s eye twitches.

“It’s not my fault no one can resist me,” Genji says. He hasn’t stopped grinning. Hanzo’s clawed fingers flinch by his sides. “Least of all you,” he says as he draws his nail down his neck, opening a hair-thin seam. Hanzo is on him before the first drop of blood can squeeze through. 

“You would let someone else mark you?” he asks, tries to demand, but Genji knows what his pain sounds like. Hanzo’s thumb brushes his brother’s supple lips–lips that part on command and kiss the calloused digit.

“Erase it, if it offends you that much.” Genji threads his fingers into Hanzo’s hair and dislodges his ribbon with a quick nick from his claw. He knows what comes next; he’s played this game so many times, in so many forms, and every single time Hanzo falls for it. He likes to think his brother enjoys it as much as he does. They both certainly enjoy the fruits of it: the rough bites; the rougher, possessive sex. Soon, Hanzo will have him up against the wall, his fangs buried in Genji’s bruises. Genji will dig his claws into Hanzo’s back as he holds him close, and Hanzo will bite harder. 

In the end, Genji is wrong about only one thing: not the wall. The table. The corpse remains unmoved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put here because it seemed to fit, and because I don't want to scare anyone away from my drabble collection by adding the shimadacest tags. (:
> 
> Rebloggable on tumblr: http://abakkus.tumblr.com/post/154098096821  
> Feel free to drop prompts in my ask box at any time.


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